


Hospitality is Overrated

by schroedingersfox



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bantering, Caves, Humor, Loki is just trying to have a vacation, M/M, Snowed In, Tony Stark makes bad decisions, Tony Stark needs to lay off unknown magical artifacts, mentions of hunting-related animal death, there's a Pre-Relationship tag if you want there to be
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-11
Updated: 2019-02-11
Packaged: 2019-10-26 07:36:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17741660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/schroedingersfox/pseuds/schroedingersfox
Summary: For the briefest of moments halfway between seconds, Tony was able to contemplate that, perhaps, this wasn't the smartest thing he had ever done. Ahead of him, among the trees a short distance away, a bewildered man stood staring. The man adjusted the body of a small deer on one shoulder and stepped closer.“Stark,” Loki said. His mouth quirked. “To what do I have the honor?”(Tony Stark Bingo 2019 -Square S2- Snowed In)





	Hospitality is Overrated

**Author's Note:**

> Happy 2019! It's Tony Stark Bingo time!

For the briefest of moments halfway between seconds, Tony was able to contemplate that, perhaps, this wasn't the smartest thing he had ever done.

***

The snow lay in fresh layers, glittering under a thread-bare canopy of trees and a hazy winter sun. Quiet, serene. And then the sky opened, like a hole in a ceiling that didn’t exist, and Tony fell through it. The powder cradled his impact, his landing muffled into a soft _fwhump_. He lifted his head to breathe, and the sudden shock of cold emptied his lungs and set his whole body shivering.

"What the s-shit."

There was no denying it had worked.

Moments ago, he had been standing in his lab, warm and safe, in an entirely separate room from the orange he was trying to disappear and reappear on opposite sides of a quarantined workbench.

Moments later, he was lying face first in a mound of snow, in a location that had not received the memo that New York was suffering through a heat wave.

Clint was right: magic was made of spite and hate.

Tony’s hands were already stiffening, fists half-open like claws. He hissed as he flexed them, once and then twice, before stretching them out again to push himself to his knees.

He wiped the wet from his face and lifted the goggles to take in his surroundings. He was kneeling in the snow in the middle of a small clearing, but otherwise trees stood on all sides. His hands gripped the sides of his arms to hold in what warmth he could before the soft breeze wicked it from him.

Movement caught his attention, and ahead of him, among the trees a short distance away, a bewildered man stood staring. The man adjusted the body of a small deer on one shoulder and stepped closer.

“Stark,” Loki said. His mouth quirked. “To what do I have the honor?”

Tony replied carefully, mindful of his tongue and chattering teeth. “I’m surprised you remember me without the suit.”

Loki was only a few steps from him now, dressed entirely proper for the weather. The hem of his cloak brushed against the top of the snow, and his boots were lined with fur. “You were quite memorable.”

Tony looked up at him and contemplated his chances of survival. “I’m glad to hear it.” He wasn’t sure he could outrun an Asgardian, not in frozen jeans and Converse shoes, but he could at least make the effort if he needed to.

“You seem in need of assistance, being so far from home. Shall I assist?” Loki held out his hand towards him, but Tony eyed it warily.

“What’s the catch? What do you get out of this?”

Loki’s smile was almost cheerful. “A life debt to an Avenger, naturally.”

“Fantastic.” Tony slapped a hand around Loki’s wrist and let himself be pulled up, but quickly winced and shifted weight off his left foot.

“Injured?” asked Loki.

“Don’t sound so pleased about it.” He hissed as he tested weight on it once more.

“I have a hunting cave nearby, if you’d be so obliged. I can’t collect my life debt if you’re dead.”

Tony considered protesting, but instead he hooked his arm around Loki’s neck and tried to ignore the one that came around his own waist for support. The deer on the other shoulder made finding a grip furry and difficult, and Tony ended up grabbing the fabric of his cloak. Loki was a bit tall to make this comfortable, but it was manageable; and in an unexpected show of civility, Loki walked them at an easy pace, avoiding rough ground underfoot.

“So,” Tony said after awhile, to break the silence and distract himself from the cold in his hands. “What’s the deer for?”

“Dinner and a pelt.”

“Can’t you just magic up new clothes?”

Loki turned his head to look at Tony. “They would be an illusion, not actual garments.”

Tony puzzled that out. “Sounds reasonable,” he agreed, lying.

He couldn’t help noticing that Loki smelled of leather and spicy smoke, like one of those winter candles Pepper liked to keep in her office. He wondered if it was intentional, like a cologne, or an after-effect from whatever it was Loki normally did.

“You know,” Tony continued, “Thor said you were dead. A while back, even. He said he attended your funeral.”

“I know. I was there.”

“You went to your own funeral?”

“Of course I did. I had to make sure they sent me off properly.” Loki smirked at him. “You look rather cold.”

“Freezing my ass off, but thanks for noticing.”

“You’re quite welcome. We’ve also arrived.”

Tony looked up, having been focused on each place he stepped, no longer able to feel the ground beneath his feet. The trees ended, and nearby beyond them was a wall of rock with a sloped opening.

“We’re going in there?”

“Oh, it’s much larger inside. Come along, now.”

Loki stooped, ducking them both into the entrance. Tony squinted at the sudden dark, but once inside the cave proper, he saw small balls of light lining the room.

“Magic lamps?”

Loki snorted. “In a sense.”

The lights brightened, revealing simple furnishings and a cold fire pit with a hanging stove.

“Sit,” Loki said, lowering the deer carcass to the floor and leading Tony to a sleeping pallet in the corner. “I’ll get a fire going.”

“Great. At least I’ll be warm when the smoke inhalation gets me.”

Loki unhooked Tony’s arm from around his shoulders and eased him onto a very soft pelt. Tony ran his fingers through the fur and briefly wondered what it used to be.

“Try not to sound too hopeful at your own death, Stark.” Loki knelt in front of the fire pit and held his hands out. The kindling sparked, small flames crawling up the side of the branches and small logs. “There’s sufficient ventilation through an outside passage in the ceiling.”

“Now _there’s_ a good use for magic.” Tony said appreciatively of the fire, scooting to the edge of the pelt while stretching his legs out in front of him. His jeans cracked audibly from the encrusted frost and snow, and his hands still ached.

“Speaking of—how _did_ you arrive on Vanaheim?”

“Arrive where?”

Loki gave him an exasperated look. “Vanaheim, one of the Nine Realms?” Tony shrugged, and Loki sighed. “I assume magic was involved.”

“It was, actually. It was your stick.”

Loki blinked. “My what?”

“Your _scepter_? With the blue rock? You know, maybe that’s why I ended up here, with you. Like it was tied to your location—”

“You’re an idiot.” Loki’s expression had darkened and he stood, now towering over Tony.

“Woah, hey,” Tony said, hands up. “You wouldn’t hit a half-frozen guy, would you? Life debt, hello?”

There was a moment both of them had a premonition that Tony would not survive the night, each imagining how he would meet his untimely (deserved) death, before Loki turned heel, grabbed the deer, and carried it outside. Tony let out the breath he had been holding. The fire was growing steadily, becoming a healthy pyramid of heat, and the hurt in his hands increased as the feeling in his nerves returned. When his feet got too hot, he pulled them back and wrapped his arms around his knees, resting his cheek on them. For the first time in what felt like ages, he felt comfortable; he could get used to this.

***

“Don’t you look comfortable.”

Tony opened his eyes, forgetting where he was and snapping himself upright. He was on top of the makeshift bed of furs, a thick blanket covering his legs. He looked across the fire pit and its strong, steady orange to see Loki returning inside the cave.

“How long was I out?”

Loki shrugged. The gesture looked out of place on him. “Long enough. I broke down the carcass; I hope you eat venison.”

“Eh, it’s an underrated meat.”

“Your enthusiasm means the world,” Loki said dryly, setting down a pack by the wall. He walked over to the fire pit, removed the stove, and hung a haunch from the hook.

“Rustic,” Tony said, leaning back on his elbows. “I like it. So when are you taking me home?”

Loki waved a hand, a universally ambiguous gesture. “At some point or another. It’s already started to snow again.”

“Does that make a difference? Do you need to clear skies to send me back home?”

“I haven’t decided yet.”

Tony flung off the blanket and stomped past Loki to the cave entrance. A step around the corner, and a frigid gust of wind buffeted his face. The snow outside was falling in thick, fast layers.

“Perfect,” he said to no one in particular, and walked straight back to the pallet, sitting cross-legged and cross-armed.

“And?” asked Loki.

Tony huffed. “Can’t see two feet past the exit.”

“Sounds foreboding.” Loki hummed. “I’ve changed my mind. I’d rather not share my provisions in the event of a storm. Goodbye, Stark,” he added, grinning. “I’ll come to collect my debt later.”

“What—”

***

The lab was quiet and still, lights still on from when Tony had used it last only a few hours prior. Dum-E stood in a corner, morose. And then the ceiling opened, like a hole that didn’t exist, and Tony fell through it. A workbench broke his impact, tools scattering and a monitor shattering in a loud, brief cacophony. Tony groaned, slumping to the floor, and Dum-E cooed beeps and rushed over.

“Welcome back, sir,” Jarvis said. “I was minutes away from calling Miss Potts, according to your protocol.”

Tony lifted a thumbs up.

“Shall I call for someone?”

“Yeah,” said Tony, pushing away Dum-E’s prodding claw. “Get me Thor, if you can.”

“Will do, sir.”

Tony rolled onto his back, away from the wrench digging into his face. “And Jarv?”

“Yes, sir?”

“Order some steak, too. I’m starving.”

”Of course, sir.”

God, he hated magic.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> As always, I'm over here on [tumblr](http://foxachu.tumblr.com/) and [pillowfort](https://www.pillowfort.io/foxachu), and you can [send me prompts here!](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/schroedingersfox_personal/profile)


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